


A Fortunate Man

by rubyofkukundu



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 01:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: Harry Goodsir really is fortunate. Truly, are there any more lucky than he?
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	A Fortunate Man

Harry Goodsir really is fortunate. Who would have thought, one year ago, that he would be here of all places: in the far north, in a place that few men have ever seen.

The sun is high this afternoon (indeed the sun is always high here; the nights short and fleeting) and the sea sparkles as he climbs back on board ship. Gulls call noisily overhead.

It has been a good day's foraging and Harry's bag is now laden with specimens. He shields his eyes with his hand as he squints back over to the land in an attempt to spy the path the party had taken. Later he will plot this path on a map and mark on it the places where his specimens were found.

Truly, are there any more lucky than he? Not a seafarer by trade; merely a surgeon, a natural philosopher, granted a marvellous opportunity to see new things.

"Excuse me, Mr Goodsir," is the call from behind him, and he realises that he is in the way, obstructing the men from going about their business. He apologises and heads below, but not without taking one more look out at the land and the bright, sparkling sea.

Oh, certainly, Harry knows that not all would think him fortunate to be here. It is cold (though the cold is easier to bear than he thought it would be, with the sun so high and the ship as warm as it is) and there is the danger that attends all voyages such as this. They must all be prepared for the worst; Harry made his last will and testament before boarding, as most will have done, and he knows how fleeting a life can be when it is attended by sickness or accident.

But would there not be sickness and accident at home as well as here? Harry said as much to his mother when he told her of his recruitment to the expedition and she had taken the news more tearfully than he had thought she might. "The ship is safe," he said to her, "and very modern, and I shall hardly be the only surgeon aboard."

There are some who might complain of boredom on a voyage such as this: the long days on the same ship with the same faces. Truly, Harry had not been so worried about that, although he had not been certain as to how he might fare with seasickness or with the confined quarters. He need not have worried; he has, he is happy to discover, a stout constitution when it comes to time on board ship, and how could anyone feel cramped or confined or bored when there is so much to do?

Perhaps the mates find it difficult to amuse themselves when the ship is at anchor, but not so Harry. Between his specimens and his microscope and the books, and not to mention the patients, Harry's days are a whirl of pleasant industry.

Reaching his small desk, he sets down his bag and pulls out the day's takings: plant cuttings, mostly, which he will observe under the microscope, but also one glass jar containing a beetle he has never seen before (most likely a beetle no man has ever seen before). Jar is set on the desk and he puts a hand into his pocket to pull on his spectacles.

Yet when he peers into the jar, all is not as it should be. The beetle, which had been sitting quite happily on a leaf before, is now on its back in the bottom of the jar, its legs in the air and still.

With a frown, Harry gives the jar a gentle shake, the beetle rattling with it and showing no sign of movement.

"Oh," says Harry, with a small, regretful smile. "I am sorry," he tells the beetle. "I didn't mean for it to kill you; I thought you would like those leaves, as I found you near them." He huffs and sets the jar back down. "I suppose I shall have to find some way to preserve you instead, so we may still take you with us."

"Come now," said Harry to his mother in the parlour, as the tea things were cleared away. "Just think of all the wondrous things I shall see." He gave her a smile; a sincere one. "And I shall record them all, so that when I return you may see them too."


End file.
